Stealing A Heart
by StumblingAlong
Summary: Snow White, the Evil Queen of the Enchanted Forest, will stop at nothing for revenge against the bandit, Regina. What happens when she even goes as far as recruiting Regina's fellow thief, Robin Hood, to aid her on her vengeful quest, but not in the way even he expects? OutlawBandit/OutlawQueen.
1. Chapter 1

**(A/N: Hello everyone! Happy OutlawQueen Week! :D So, today's prompt, for OQ week, is an OutlawBandit fic. Which, I'm excited about because I LOOOOOOVED the Heroes & Villains universe, all of the characters were fan-freaking-tastic, so I hope to see many a fanfic today for this prompt.**

 **But, firstly, onto my own. I had this idea for an OutlawBandit multichapter fic for awhile, shout out to my AMAZING friend Taylor for encouraging it, so I decided, kill two birds with one stone and post the first chapter of this fic today for OQ week. So, I cheated. LOL.**

 **I hope y'all find this intriguing cause I would actually love to continue it and see all the ideas swirling in my head through to the end. So, tell me your thoughts, if you can, please. :)**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own 'Once Upon A Time', nor any of it's characters (if I did, Robin would have a helluva lot more screentime!), this is written purely for fun.)**

* * *

Robin Hood has never thought of himself as arrogant, he's just always known how skilled he happens to be; whether it be wielding a bow, never missing his mark, or robbing a carriage or castle like a phantom figure, leaving undetected, unharmed.

Until today, that is.

Perhaps he had been a tad too cocky and that's how everything went so wrong, how everything he once boasted about himself had failed and led him here, on his knees, his head bowed.

In front of a Queen.

Not just any Queen, not a simple royal, irate at his thieving ways, missing their precious trinkets and the small perchantage of wealth he managed to pinch from them. No, this is Snow White, Snow Black as she is known across realms - "the darkest of hearts one could ever encounter", Robin remembers hearing - and, instead of indignant bemoans and angry scowls, she is smirking, amused, _calm_.

Too calm for a powerful sorceress who had had her carriage hijacked by Robin and his men not even an hour ago.

She had, inexplicably, allowed his Merry Men to flee with their lives, her eyes had just been focused on their leader and, before Robin understood what was happening, her companion, one of her Black Knights, had used the shaft of sword to club him on the back of the neck, knocking him into a blackness.

Now, conscious, but with a sore neck and a throbbing head, Robin kneels before a different kind of blackness.

"Oh, Robin Hood," The Queen speaks, her voice soft, almost innocent sounding, yet it still sends chills down his spine, "You certainly have made much commotion, haven't you?"

Robin remains silent.

"Speak," Snow commands, enuniciating the word slowly, threateningly.

Robin lifts his head, finally meeting the Queen's icy gaze, feeling his lips twist into his own malicious grin. His own stupidity, his overestimation of his abilities, his haughtiness, may be the reason he is here, but he damn sure won't let this witch have him cowering like some meek servant. "I see my reputation has proceded me. I'm flattered, Your Majesty."

Snow hums, her smirk stretching futher across her lips, "You have quite a mouth when you choose to open it, don't you?"

"And, let me guess, you'll want to rip out, what? My lips? My tongue? Perhaps dispose of my head entirely?"

She laughs, cold and detached, barely any noise escaping her, "I see you've been brushing up on my work. Seems we're mutual fans of one another, Outlaw."

Robin cringes at her words, his eyes narrowing as he spats, "I am no fan of yours."

"Oh dear," The Queen murmurs, the quiet timbre of her voice still echoing throughout the large throneroom that they appear to be in, "And here I thought I wouldn't have any fun today."

There is a pause, a brief moment where the two are doing nothing but staring one another down until Robin groans, irritation and an anxious sensation washing over him, "Just do it, already! Come on, have your _pet_ here," He motions towards the Black Knight behind him, holding him in his position, "slice through my neck and go about your pathetic existence as the evil, despicable creature you are."

Snow is smiling, still, not at all off-put by Robin's words, it seems. If anything, she appears to revel in a sick pleasure from them.

She takes two small strides towards him, her hand reaching out and grasping his chin. Robin struggles to escape her grip, but she is firm and he fails in his efforts as she squeezes his jaw tighter. "A leader of that brigade of forest dwellers for so long that you don't know how to stop giving orders. We shall change that."

"You will not be dying, Outlaw," She continues, roughly pushing at his head as she lets go of him, turning away and going to sit on her black, oranate throne a few feet in front of him, " _Yet_."

He wants to interject, to make some snappy remark about what his punishment will be then, but it occurs to him that if he is to be locked up, there's a good chance he can escape, so he keeps his mouth shut as she speaks again.

"No, death is too easy and you have so many other talents to offer me."

Bile rises in his throat that he barely manages to swallow down as he croaks, "Do your virile Knights not pleasure you enough, Your Majesty?"

The one behind him jerks Robin's body and his neck wants him to cry out in pain at the harsh jostle, but the Queen surprises him, by reprimanding the Knight with a teasing "Stick to the black, Charming, green isn't quite your color."

She then focuses her attention back to Robin, "I do want your body, Outlaw, but not for myelf."

She waves her hand and suddenly an images floats in the air. It's a moving picture, it's subject a young woman with braided, ebony hair and warm, dark eyes. Her lips, plump and soft pink in hue, are pressed into a thin line, then she bites down on the bottom one. She is concentrating, he notes. The image expands, shows that she has a bow in her hand, an arrow knocked, then she releases it up into the air and, not a moment later, a squirrel falls from a tree. She had perfectly pierced her target.

Regina, he realizes. A bandit, his competition, actually. They had never met, but she had managed to sabotage several of the Merry Men's missions, bagging off with a pretty sum before they even had a chance to try for themselves. He knew she was good, skilled, even rivaling himself, but he never expected her to look, to be so...

 _Beautiful_.

It's the only word his brain can conjure as his eyes flit over her body, bending to retrieve her, what he can only assume as someone who also lives off the land, dinner. She has firm, toned legs, he can tell by her skin-tight trousers. Her upper body is more concealed, she wears a long sleeved shirt, layered with a fur-collared vest.

She's short. Judging by the height of the trees, where the top of her head reaches them, she's a small in statue, he knows. But, damn, does it not make him have more respect for her. For this woman who is tiny and, as far as he knows, all alone with a lack of supplies, a striking beauty who could have been royality in her own right, to have beaten he and his hoard of well-stocked men on many occasions is humbling, admirable.

"Do you know who this is?" The Queen interrupts Robin's thoughts and he forces himself to tear his eyes away from Regina, to face the cruel woman in front of him.

"Would it matter if I did, Your Majesty?" He bites back, "I'm sure you'll tell me, anyway."

"I knew there was a brain hidden in that flea covered skull of yours," She exclaims and Robin hears the Knight snort behind him, causing the thief to roll his eyes. She begins to talk again, as she waves her hand, the image of Regina disappearing with it and he can't help but feel a pang of regret for not memorizing her further, "This, _she_ , is a problem that needs to be eradicated.

 _Ah_.

"I may very well be a thief, Your Majesty, but a killer, I am not."

"You are willing to defy your Queen?" She's not angry. Irritated, maybe, but her question is asked in the same eery coolness that her other ones have been, "Do you have a death wish, Outlaw?"

"I will not sacrifice the life of another for my own, no." He refuses to kill, to _murder_ , this beautiful, resilient woman in exchange for his own hide. If Snow White wants Regina dead, he can do nothing to halt that, but it sure as hell will not be done by his hand.

"No?" The Queen questions, then waves her hand, another moving picture popping into sight. He expected it to be his Merry Men, for the murderess monarch to threaten their lives, but he knows that they would respond in kind, so he was prepared with another rejection to spill from his mouth.

But it is not his men. No, it's his family home. In Sherwood Forest. Of course, his parents are long dead, it's no longer a house with tenants he knows, but he sees children playing in the field not far from it, a mother and father embracing, leaning against the side of the quaint cottage as they watch their offspring, two boys and a girl, frollick about.

"How about now?" Snow inquires, waving her hand, displaying a new scene, a pub in Sherwood that his father would frequent back in the day, many patrons gathered there now, drinking and laughing.

Robin's stomach flips, his throat tightens, his palms sweat.

The Queen makes the images vanish once more and addresses him, "You see, Outlaw, if you do not follow my commands, it won't just be _your_ life at risk. I will burn down that entire village, I will annhilate the lives of everyone in your homeland. You may not be willing to save one life over another's, but what about a whole community's?"

Robin swallows hard, a lump forming at the back of his throat, his eyes stinging with unshed, stubborn tears, and he can do nothing but whisper his words, "So you want me to kill her? That girl?"

"Of course not," Snow flippantly responds, crossing one leg over the other as she adjusts to better perch on her throne, "No one is to kill her but me."

"Then what the hell is it that you want with me?"

The Queen smiles again, a sneer of pure malice, "I won't bore you with the details, Outlaw, but this pest once took something quite precious from me," Her mask falters a bit, a look of pain crossing her face, but she quickly replaces it once more, "I want to do the same to her before I end her life."

"So you want me to steal something from her?"

"In a matter of speaking," The Queen answers, drumming her fingers on her gown covered knee, "I wish for you to steal her heart."

Robin's eyes widen and he is about to ask how that's possible. He has no magic, for him to retrieve the organ from Regina's body, he'd be forced to cut it out, which would kill her instantly, contradicting Snow White's previous blood-thirsty statements, but she continues, answering his silent inquiry for him.

"Actually, you can't steal something that's been given to you, correct? And that's what I want, Outlaw. I want Regina to _give_ you her heart, I want you to make her fall head over heels, birds chirping in your beloved forest, all-consuming, love with you."

She wants him to seduce Regina. To falsify feelings for the woman, to enact real ones within her. Robin feels an undeniable wave nauseam roll over him and he wants to immediately object, would rather feel the sharp blade of a sword take his life than trick Regina, or any human being, like this.

But then he remembers Sherwood, remembers the hundreds of innocent men, women, and children who would all lose their lives because of his inability to set his honor aside and romance a woman he is, clearly, already attracted to - even if it is spurred by the instructions of the Queen.

His head pounds, pounds, aches with the weight of this decision, with balancing innocent life vs. innocent life and all he can do is mutter a single word.

"Why?"

The Queen stands abruptly, gliding across the short distance and putting her face a mere few inches away from his own. "Because I want Regina's heart utterly and completely broken before I crush it."

Robin closes his eyes and bows his head. He's never felt this kind of angst within himself. Even when he once stole for selfish reasons, the guilt of those thefts were nothing compared to this, nothing compared to this agonizing, breathtaking pain that is lancing his mind and soul.

His control breaks and his body betrays him, allowing one tear to slide down his cheek, as he lifts his head, meeting the Queen's penetrating stare.

"I'll do it. Where do I find Regina?"


	2. Chapter 2

It's quiet in the woodland of Mist Haven.

As Robin treks through the forest, weaving between looming trees, under a the shadow of a grey sky, he can't help but hear every miniscule noise as if it is thunderous in volume; every snap of a twig beneath his boot, each flap of a bird's wing as it flies overhead, and all the crickets and critters littering the forest floor with their chirps and scuttles.

It's certainly serene enough for him to hear his skin burning.

His arm feels heavy, unbearably so. Something he was carried with honor and dignity, the crest of his family, his father bearing the same image, on the same patch of skin, now scorching his blood, wanting to pull his arm down, down, farther into a pit of despair where his heart shall permanently lay, until (and, most likely, _after_ \- when he has blood on his hands and death on his conscience) his task is completed.

His tattoo.

A lion, a mighty symbol of strength and courage, reduced to a weapon, a warning, now a symbol of his inability to save those in need, to be good, righteous, and true, virtues he always swore he would uphold.

The Queen had enchanted it with her wretched dark magic, had cursed it to where Robin would feel a sharp, searing pain (much worse than the stininging coursing through him now), an example of the pain she would put every citizen of Sherwood through, until he delivered a helpless - and helplessly in love - Regina to Her Majesty within four fortnights. If his task is not completed by then, if he were to tip his fellow bandit off, or, hell, even allow the sweet relief of death to take him, every man, woman, child, and creature in his home land, as well as Regina, will all be joining him in the grave.

There is no winning in this scenario.

But the most Robin can do now is reduce the casualities and, for that, he must find Regina. And seduce her.

Of course Snow White and her bloody magic couldn't have just informed him of Regina's location, so here he is, wandering aimlessly through the woods, his bow slung on his shoulder, the air becoming crisper around him, and his blasted arm bluntly throbbing.

He's been traveling for two days, pausing momentarily to rest. Not sleep, no, that's an impossible feat with Regina's face, her expression focused, her features radiant, swimming through his mind each time he closes his eyes. The one instance when he was able to push that picture from the recesses of his brain, falling into a light slumber, he had been awoken by the phantom sounds of the children the Queen had shown him, innocent ihabitants of his childhood home.

He exhales heavily, his breath ghosting in front of him as the temperature declines steadily, wind wafting up fallen leaves around him, a sure sign of a storm approaching. He hears the rustle of the branches blowing, the scampering of woodland animals off to find shelter.

Robin detects one more sound.

The unmistakable, familiar noise of a bow string being retracted back.

Performing on instinct, Robin, in one fluid motion, swings his own bow out in front of him, grasping and nocking an arrow with quick precision, as he side steps out of the line of fire, while simultaneously aiming his body (and his weapon!) in the direction of his opposite archer.

"Who are you? What do you want?"

 _Regina_.

For considering himself an experienced bowman, a shrewd thief, and an all around unflappable man, it is alarming how disarmed Robin feels as he stares into the dark chocolate depths of this woman's eyes.

Her glare, inky orbs narrowed in suspicion, in concentration, is settled on him, her weapon, mirroring his own, is raised, trained on him, her body is rigid, but Robin can tell that beneath her stoic stance, her blood is racing, her pulse is thumping, because he can feel the same sensations under his own skin.

He understands her, but he finds himself craving to know her, to peek beyond this resilient exterior, because he knows far, better than most, that it _is_ just that- a facade. But, damn, is it one he wants to see through. He wants to know why she uses dragonfly wings, as opposed to fowl feathers, for her fletching, wants to know how she, someone short in statue, all alone, and on the run from Snow White, no less, has survived so well, so beautiful (bugger all, is she the most naturally stunning woman he's laid eyes upon), and what she possibly could have done to incur the wrath of an evil sorceress to the point where she, in the Queen's opinion, deserves what he is to inflict upon her.

How can he do what he is to do?

"I won't ask you a third time: Who. Are. You?" She speaks slowly, deliberately, her voice a rich, crackling timbre that tickles his ear with each word.

He smirks, intrigued, as he ever had been when she had managed to outmanuever him and his Merry Men for a particular heist, when she was just a myth, a yarn of an opponent, as opposed to facing him, threatening him now, "I should be asking you that, I should think. I've lived in these forests for many a year."

"And yet I've never once seen you. I don't believe in coincidences," Regina spats, tugging her bow string harsher.

Robin matches her movements, adds a playful wink that evokes the desired reaction, her nose scrunching up, adorably in annoyance, as he offers, "Perhaps you should open your eyes to the possibility, milady."

"'Perhaps'," She imitates, cocking an eyebrow in his direction, "You should open your eyes to see me about to send this arrow through your thick skull."

"Thick? Well, I take umbrage with that statement. Strong, for certain, but thick?" He shrugs, feels amusement dancing within him, finds her a worthy adversary, physically and verbally, but he sobers himself, "Even if you shoot, my arrow will still leave this bow and trust me, I _never_ miss."

They stand at an impasse, both their arrows nocked, ready for flight.

A crack of lightning lances the sky above them, but neither of the archers avert their eyes. In fact, the sudden streak just highlights Regina for Robin; he can see the true definition of her sharp cheekbones, the freckles of brighter strands of hair amongst her ebony locks, a faint scar indented in her smooth, olive skin, just above her upper lip.

He idly wonders if the Queen was responsible for that blemish as she is for the aching in his forearm.

"Milady-" He begins, but she abruptly interrupts him with an aggrivated sigh.

"Quit calling me that."

"My apologies, are you not, in fact, a girl?" He counters, is perplexed by her aversion to the moniker he has addressed her by, as he has every other person of the opposite sex since he was a wee lad.

Regina rolls her eyes and Robin feels the corners of his mouth twitch upwards because, even for a millisecond, she has surrendered her stare, has must've recovered her misplaced trust in others, in _him_ , for her to assume he would not seize the opportunity and fire off his shaft at her. The realization unexpectedly warms him.

And also makes his stomach bottom out.

How will he be able to deceive her, to draw down her guard in order to lead her off, heartbroken and distressed, to her death at the hands of Snow White, if he can't even manage to cope with the nauseum of a mere roll of her eyes?

How will he be able to exist, though, to look into the eyes of his Merry Men, his followers, brothers, some of whom still have family back in Sherwood, knowing he sanctioned the entire community's death over a bandit, who even after Sherwood's demise, would still be hunted and, if captured, executed, by the Queen?

" _Woman_ ", Regina corrects his previous question, suspending his guilt-ridden train of thought in the process, "And my gender has nothing to do with it. I'm no lady." She snorts, derisively, as if the notion that she should be respected as every one of her peers would be, and it drags a frown to Robin's lips- one that she notices. "I don't want your pity."

A clap of thunder reverberates off the trees, the power of the blaring sound making the ground under Robin's feet vibrate.

"What I want, _milady_ ," He growls, emphasizing the label that she may reject, but that she, nevertheless, is more than worthy of, "Is to quit mucking about and find shelter before we're drowned out by this storm." He lowers his bow, he can't shoot her (the Queen would have his head) and he's confident that his safety will remain intact, despite his fellow outlaw's weapon still being perched in his direction.

Regina scoffs, but does finally retract her nock, sliding the unreleased arrow back into the quiver strapped to her back, "I'm not going anywhere with you, thief."

"Thief?" He furrows his brow, now focused entirely on her and the name she just bestowed upon him, rather than the increasing winds and the darkening of the clouds like he probably should.

She seems to dismiss his inquiry, seems to wholly dismiss _him_ as she spins on her heel and begins to walk away from him.

Skilled? Yes. Attractive? Absolutely. Stubborn? Incredibly so. Regina Mills is handful, that is for damn sure.

Robin starts off, quick on her heels, neither he, nor Regina, having any difficulty maintaining a swift pace. A frustrated groan emits from her and she doesn't come to a halt, but she does whirl her head to look at him as she barks, "Why are you following me?"

"Why did you call me a thief? Do you recognize me?" He doesn't know how she would, without, perhaps, the exception of his Wanted posters, but surely those caricatures do not do him justice enough to easily identify him.

"Should I?" She huffs, "Listen, you're out here, tattered clothes, full pack, and readily able to defend yourself- not exactly royalty. And, unlike you, I don't sugarcoat anything, 'sir'." She sneers the moniker mockingly, a parody of his employment of the word 'milady', but playfully expressed of not, Robin can't deny the shiver it sends shooting down his spine- and towards lower portions of his body.

"So you're a thief?"

"Something like that."

"Does 'something like thieves' have a name or shall I keep referring to you as your favorite title, milady?" Robin smirks, boldly brushes his shoulder with her own, plannoyancesurprised when she doesn't haul off and wallop him for the brief bodily contact.

"Wilma," Regina answers, glances out the corner of her eye, a sly grin sliding over her lips, "A simple peasant girl."

"I doubt there's anything simple about you, milady." It's a truthful statement on Robin's part, the woman beside him honestly remarkable to him, even knowing her in a short span of time.

She stops, nearly has Robin tripping over his own two feet as he forces himself to pause his steps suddenly. She pivots on her heel, positioning them face-to-face again, thankfully without their defensive tools in hand, and narrows her eyes, suspicion clouding her expression once more, "Who are you?"

"A friend?" He grins, trying to interject levity, as another zap of lightning pierces overhead.

Regina purses her lips (and, oh, is it a test in self-control to not allow his eyes to roam down to that plump, pink mouth of hers), as an indescribable emotion crosses her features, has her muttering, "I don't have friends."

"Then allow me to be your first."

It's a simple proposal, one that spills easily from Robin, but it seems to impact Regina, he can see the uncertainty weighing on her, his words, from a reason unknown to him, causing an upheaval to her judgement. But before she can answer, there's another big boom of thunder descending on the forest and out of the corner of his eye, Robin spies something dark, something towering in size- flying straight towards the pair of bandits.

"Get down!" He instructs firmly, throwing his body on top of Regina, sending them piling down onto the dirt and leaf covered terrain of Mist Haven's timberland.

He pinches his eyes shut, keeps his determination on protecting Regina, his body covering her own as she squirms against him, but as he senses the presence, whatever the hell it may be, swoop over them, he rises on his knees, proficiently extracting his bow and sending a series of arrows flying after, from what he could decipher of a brief glance, a winged beast, as it disappears into the tree tops.

He takes a few deep breaths, the adrenaline riding itself out of his system as instaneously as it appeared, watching after the invisible trail the airborne creature followed through, as well as keeping an observant eye open in case it were to return.

"What the hell was that thing?" Regina snaps, then he feels her hands, clenched into fists, driving at his chest, and warns with a venemous tone, "Get off me, thief, before you have a broken nose on that thick skull of yours."

Robin heaves out a sigh, looking down at her struggling against him as he remains on his knees, straddling her tiny figure, "A simple 'thank you' would suffice, milady."

"You expect me to thank you? For what?" She howls, a bitter laughter erupting from her as she stops her wriggling and thrashing to stare at him incredulously, "You tackled me to the ground! You could've crushed my arm!"

Robin rolls his eyes, a flame of irritation flaring in him, "And that thing, as you so eloquently put it, could've crushed _you_. How about you try some gratitude for me saving your life, hmm?"

"I owe you _nothing_ ," Regina snarls, with a tad more intensity than the scene warrants, Robin notes, wonders if she has owed someone something in the past, her ever mysertious, already baffling past. She shoves him again, "So how about you try following your 'milady' and chivalry garbage and get off of me?"

"And if that thing comes back? Gods forbid I 'tackle' you again, you might just snap in two."

She knows he's teasing her now, he can see how her jaw clenches in further annoyance before she says, "If it comes back, I'm more than capable of kicking it's sorry ass myself. I don't need a walking pine tree pinning me to the ground."

"Pine tree?" He chortles as he repeats her words.

"You reek of the forest."

"As if you smell like a damn apple orchard?" He demands, a battle of amusement and aggrivation creeping into his voice. Truth is, even a bit musty, she still smells divine, a natural scent akin to vanilla and, yes, maybe even apples, tingling his senses, while he hasn't washed since being captured by the Black Knights days ago.

"I bathe regularly, which I doubt can be said of you," Regina replies as her nose scrunches and she glares at him disparagingly, adding one, two, a third punch to his chest before she reaches to grab his wrist.

No.

It may not be the promised, tortuous pain of slaughted denizens, but his tattoo, binding him to this beautiful woman beneath him, through a heinous plan he must complete, is still sensitive and prickling - and Gods only know what side effects the Queen's bloody magic carries with it.

So he grabs at her wrists, holds him down, beside her alleviated neck, on the ground and she gasps at the action, her eyes snapping down to her restrained extremities, then back up to lock with his own.

 _Drip_.

Robin feels the water drop unceremoniously onto the bridge of his nose and from one bead trickling off the tip of his nose, comes an abrupt deluge, pouring down on them like a basin below a waterfall.

"Phenomenal," He grumbles sarcastically as he winces with the intensity of the rain assaulting his eyes. But as he looks down, "phenomenal" doesn't begin to describe his view.

Regina, her head lolled back, a smile, a pure, unfettered grin, the first he's seen adorning her, her hair drenched, darkening it's hue further, with water trailing over the contours of her face, down her neck, leading Robin's stare, as if he is transfixed beyond realization, down to her chest where it trickles into her minute amount of clevage, to her soaked clothing.

Just as he had thought earlier; bollocks, what he had thought since he caught his first glimpse of Regina in Snow White's illustrious magic two days prior to now...

 _Stunning_.

Before he can continue to admire her, before he can paint this picture offered to him by whatever Gods deemed him worthy enough to witness it into memory, her head is pulled back up, hooking his gaze.

He observes her swallow hard, her breath labored, as if he had caught her by surprise in an intimate moment and he, in a way, had. A vulnerable, openly reveling position, that she must not submit to often judging by the nearly horrified look on her face.

"I like the rain," She mumbles defensively and even through a powerful rainfall Robin can hear her, sharp and clear, and he cannot resist his teeth sinking into his lower lip, his head bobbing.

"I can see that, milady."

There's a silence, a pregnant pause that feels suffocating in the midst of the storm, in the midst of their proximity, and Robin is all too aware that his knees are digging into the ground on either side of her, his thighs against the curves of her hips, the heftiness of the torrent bathing the two of them seemingly wanting to haul him closer to her.

Regina breaks the lull first, no longer attempting to fight him off of her, almost peaceful now that they're enveloped in the storm, as she says, taking Robin by surprise:

"I know somewhere we can go."

 **(A/N: No I have not forgotten about my beautiful Outlaw Bandit OTP! Yay! LOL. I'm sorry I haven't updated this in quite some time, my AUs had my rapt attention for a bit, but I shall try my best to evenly juggle all my WIP fics in the future, especially this one because I do truly love writing this world within OUAT, and, esp. through Robin.**

 **Thank you SO much for amazing support you've given this fic, from favorites to follows to reviews and, especially, just reading it. It means more than you know and I hope y'all continue to enjoy it.**

 **Let me just give a brief explanation as to why I had Snow enchant Robin's tattoo as opposed to the typical taking-his-heart method: It's exactly that - typical. For me, when I watched H &V, what I LOVED was nothing was as expected. Yes, Snow was the "Evil Queen", but she wasn't a parody of Regina. I think Adam, Eddy, and Ginny went to great lengths to show that this was a completely new character and, for me, it certainly showed. I think where Regina was very ruthless and passionate, Snow was very cold and calculating, at least, that's the impression I got, so I wanted to run with it. Also, remember, we're in keeping with the H&V style, it was all about having things flipped. So, like the OQ history we're used to, the lion tattoo is, indeed, a symbol of the beginning of OQ, but in an opposite way ;).)**


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